


Reap the Rewards

by LoneSardine



Category: Disgaea (Games), Disgaea 4: A Promise Unforgotten
Genre: Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24810712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoneSardine/pseuds/LoneSardine
Summary: After the final battle Emizel finally gets to see his dad again, and announce his big news.
Relationships: Emīzeru | Emizel & Hugo (Disgaea)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Reap the Rewards

**Author's Note:**

> Hugo is just such a good dad - He's not perfect, sure, but by Disgaea-dad standards he's amazing - and I needed to write something for that, even if it's pretty short.
> 
> Also the Death species fascinates me and I wanted to explore some headcanons for that. This story also includes some of my headcanons about Emizel's mother (why do we never hear or learn anything about her??? All the other characters avoid talking about her like they know they're not meant to or something)

Almost as if he was searching for nothing else, “Dad!” Emizel bee-lined straight from the Dimension Gate towards his father waiting in Hades’ central hall, trotting over with hands in his pockets and a giant grin. “We did it, Dad! We did it!”

“I know. I was watching from the Information Bureau,” Hugo said as he watched the practically vibrating boy in front of him.

“We actually did it! I actually did it! And I didn’t die! We actually beat Malice and I didn’t die! I totally thought I was going to die...!” Emizel rushed out with slowly fraying cheer, flopping forward slightly after he finished. “Holy shit, we actually did it...”

Chuckling, “I’m glad you’re back safely too,” Hugo agreed, looking over Emizel’s bowed head for a moment to nod gratefully to Valvatorez, who returned the nod with reciprocal respect.

“Hey, Dad! Dad!” Emizel perked back up again so sharply he practically bounced on the spot, the flame on the tail of his hood whizzing round in circles. “I reaped my first soul! I helped Nemo’s soul finally pass on so he can become a prinny and atone for his sins instead of going to limbo and- I did it! I reaped a soul!”

With the speed Emizel was going at it truly was hard to know if he’d heard correctly, and even if he had, “You reaped Nemo’s soul?”

“Yeah!”

Hugo had to stare at his son for a moment, grinning proudly with his eyes closed like he was waiting for the recognition he felt he deserved even now; some things didn’t change. But other things truly did. “You certainly picked a difficult soul for your first time,” Hugo said, still working his way past the surprise.

“Eh.” Emizel actually had the gall to just shrug about the whole thing. “It’s about time I reaped someone’s soul, no big deal.”

Ah, he was embarrassed about how long it had taken him. Well, he could be allowed this then. “The proper preparation, in all forms, is the most vital part of properly reaping a soul.”

“I _know_ , Dad,” Emizel jutted forward in that way only adolescents could. “You only told me that, like, a billion times.” Slouching back to pout, “I didn’t stammer or mess up the incantation. It went just fine, Dad. Chill.”

“Hmhm, I’m not sure I’m the one who needs to ‘chill’ here, Emizel.”

“H-Hey!” It never stopped being adorable how his son’s hood-flame would flare up like that. “I expected you’d want to know so you could start, like, crying about it and all the other embarrassing stuff dads do when they make a big fuss. A-And don’t say slang words, it makes you sound old!”

Even if he needed to be so circumspect in asking for it, “You were very brave, going up against Malice and Fear the Great like that, Emizel,” Hugo praised his son.

“I was pretty scared...” he didn’t even try and hide it.

“I’m very proud of you.” He rubbed the skull on the top of Emizel’s hood, feeling the head beneath press up seekingly into his palm.

“Yeah, I know.”

Okay, there were limits to how much he could let slide. “Oh, you know?” Hugo almost laughed.

“Well yeah, ‘cause I’m proud of me,” Emizel shrugged as the hand retracted from his head. “I said I’d become a great demon, and that I’d make you proud of me, Pops.”

“You think you’re a ‘great demon’ already?”

“I-I’m closer!” Emizel defended. “This is definitely one step closer. ...Right?”

They could work on the self-confidence another day. “It is,” Hugo reassured him, glad to see that little exhale of tension from his son’s slightly quivering shoulders. “You should rest now, Emizel. You’ve done far more than enough for one day.”

“Y-Yeah...” Emizel agreed, glancing away in the direction of the Infirmary. “I think Val’s gonna have some kind of party or something to celebrate later. I’m sure he’ll let you join in, so you should stick around.”

“Thank you.”

Emizel made an awkward sort of nod, one that only embarrassed him further and he was going to pretend hadn’t happened by rushing off towards the Infirmary, still trembling slightly inside his hoodie.

~DOOD~

“Well, that’s quite the... sight,” Hugo decided on diplomatically as he watched Valvatorez and his bright pink apron serving up sardines to prinnies and demons alike.

“I’d guess this is why they say ‘Don’t meet your heroes’,” Emizel offered beside him, “but I’ve gotten used to it by now.”

“How did your little adventure compare to those stories you used to write about facing off against Tyrant Valvatorez in battle and travelling to other netherworlds alongside him?”

“Wh-What?! I don’t remember- I didn’t write any stories like that!” Emizel huffed.

“Really? But I still have them in a box at home,” Hugo kept a straight face as he teased. “Perhaps I should show them to Valvatorez-”

“Nooo! Dammit, Pops! Are you trying to kill me with embarrassment or something?” He even stamped a petulant, little foot on the ground. “When I kill Axel and take over as president I’m gonna go through all your old desk drawers and see how you like it!”

Now Hugo couldn’t help but laugh. “Please do. All you’ll find is unfinished paperwork and a hidden drawer for my photos of you.”

“Argh!” He scrunched up tight before settling for a good old, dramatic finger point. “What the hell are you even doing here, Dad?! Fuka’s dad didn’t turn up to embarrass her!”

“You invited me, don’t you remember?” Rather rapidly, Emizel retracted back into his hoodie like a pouting turtle. “Besides, I had a present for you. But if you want me to leave-”

“A present?” Hugo could see his son’s face was trying to play it cool, but the tail-flame on his hoodie was whizzing round in a joyfully dead give-away. “I mean, I guess you might as well stay, since you’re here and all now,” Emizel tried to shrug off casually.

Reaching inside his lapel, Hugo took his time so he could milk the chance to see that eager, adoring delight in those red eyes; a few more centuries and Emizel would be too old for this. “Here.” Despite himself, he couldn’t bear to keep those little hands waiting once they had spied the first hint of wrapping paper and reached out.

“Awesome!” All his recent maturity didn’t save the present from being snatched ready to tear into, the goat-covered wrapping paper having no idea what was coming.

“Hey!” A new voice, and swung-out baseball bat, interrupted. “How come Emizel gets a present?! I want a present!”

“If Big Sis wants a present, Desco wants a present!” And with that commotion the whole circus took their cue to come see what was going on.

“Well, go bother your own dad for one,” Emizel taunted, “maybe he can give the two of you a brain to share.” Put a present in his hands and the boy was straight back to his own self, apparently.

“Hey, shut up!” was Fuka’s masterful retort.

Emizel finally finished shredding the wrapping paper, unconcerned by the pieces falling as litter onto the floor, lifting out from its innards a rose gold scarf, its linen-like fabric lying stiffly across his hands from lack of wear. “Dad...”

Fuka leant in, pulling a slight face as she assessed the gift. “My dad gives me lame stuff like scarves too. I know how it feels.”

“You idiot!” Emizel went off at her. “Why don’t you learn something about the netherworld before opening your mouth? Deaths get given a scarf as a gift when we reap our first soul – It’s a super big deal!”

“Well, excuse me for not knowing all these weird facts about how this place works! This is a dream, after all.”

Emizel growled in pure frustration, giving up with a simple, “Whatever, just stop ruining the moment.”

“What’s the importance of receiving the scarf, Emizel?” Artina asked, moving things gently along.

“Baby deaths are born with bowties,” he explained, pointing a small finger at his own; “they turn into scarves as we go through adolescence. Getting a scarf is a symbolic gift of becoming an adult therefore.” He looked up at his father with a proud grin. “Thanks, Dad.”

“It’s nothing you don’t more than deserve now, Emizel,” Hugo assured him. “You’ve grown into a fine young man I’m so proud to call my son.”

“Dad...!” Watery, red tears began welling up.

Before the group could have one unruined emotional moment though, “Big Sis, are bowties baby scarves? Desco didn’t know they were an evolutionary family,” Desco asked.

“I’m confused too,” Fuka admitted. “Clothes don’t normally ‘grow up’ with their owners. Does that mean Emizel’s bowtie is a part of his body?”

“Desco’s clothes are a part of her body, Big Sis!”

“Well, yeah. But yours don’t really look like normal clothing anyway. I always figured Emizel was wearing normal clothes like me.”

Though he sighed harshly to have to do this again, “When monster demons take a humanoid form we make clothes to go with it,” he explained; “it saves us having to carry them around for when we transform.”

“Make them out of what? Your skin?”

“No, out of magic,” an exasperated dryness crept into Emizel’s tone. “Some types of monster demons don’t have proper bodies like you humans, we just have physical forms that are a manifestation of our souls. That’s why we can transform and stuff.”

Fuka looked around the group with slow turns of her head, Valvatorez nodding in agreement, and then frowned. “...So, does that mean you’re technically naked right now?”

“What the hell! No!” Emizel answered.

“I knew scarves were an important item to deaths,” Valvatorez spoke up over the children’s idiocy, “but I didn’t realise that was the significance when I gave you that one, Hugo.”

“Don’t worry yourself, I understood your intent,” Hugo reassured him, still amused by the little scene revolving around his son. “Are you going to put it on, Emizel?”

“Oh, right,” he finally realised, starting to tuck the ends around his neck inside his hoodie.

“You’d think an ex-president would be able to afford something nicer like silk at least,” Fuka had to comment now. “It totally clashes with your outfit too.”

“Ugh, I don’t even care what you think,” Emizel sensibly decided this time, finishing wrapping the scarf around his neck and leaving most of his lower face swallowed by its layers.

“It is an odd choice of fabric for a scarf,” Artina agreed though, reaching out to gently brush a finger over the rough weave.

Emizel tolerated her curiosity but dipped his face further into his scarf, red eyes shadowed as he said, “Mum’s cloak was made of a fabric like this, like most shadows, though the colour was her special one...”

He rendered them all awkwardly silent, only Artina politely managing, “It’s a very nice colour,” in a gentle voice.

“Desco was made to be Mommy’s colours too,” Desco helpfully blurted out, moving things along.

“You were?” her sister asked.

“Yep! Since Fuka looks so much like Daddy, Desco was made to look like Mommy!”

Fuka pointed straight at her little sister with a sharp, “You take that back! I don’t look at all like Dad!”

On the verge of tears with just that alone, “Desco’s sorry, Big Sis! She takes it all back! Though it was Daddy that said it,” Desco said, her tentacles shrinking apologetically.

Now Fuka tutted, relenting. “He would try and claim something like that...”

“I think you look pretty similar too, actually,” Emizel shrugged, a casual revenge for earlier.

She successfully riled back up in an instant, “You’re gonna jinx yourself into growing up to look like _your_ father if you say stuff like that! And you’d look so stupid with a beard!”

“Whatever. At least _I’m_ gonna grow up.”

He’d had far and away enough practice to tune Fuka out when she started going on about this all being a ‘dream’ again. His father hadn’t apparently built up the same immunity, listening with a fond bemusement to the oddity of an unprinny, until Emizel tugged on his sleeve.

“Save your sanity, Pops, she’s just an idiot who can’t accept she’s dead.” More importantly, “This is a super cool present,” he wanted to say, the closest any true demon could get to a ‘thank you’ comfortably. “Even if I don’t remember Mom enough to really miss her, I’m sad she isn’t here for this.”

“As am I,” Hugo agreed, gently rubbing his son’s shoulders. “I know she would have been very proud of you as well; all she wished for you was that you be happy and safe.”

“I’m not sure heading straight at Fear the Great really counts as being ‘safe’,” Emizel disputed, “but... I’m glad. After she died to protect me it would have been pretty ungrateful of me to go die on something stupid like this...”

Hugo pulled the boy closer, aiming for a hug which Emizel half-resisted and half-sought like any awkward adolescent, hiding his flustered face further into his scarf. “What are you going to do now, Emizel?”

“Huh?”

It wasn’t a surprise the thought hadn’t crossed his mind in all this. “After the party. We can’t return to the Blight House now. Where will you stay?”

“Oh. I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Where are you going to stay? Can’t I... come stay with you?” he risked asking.

“Of course. I simply thought you may not want to live with me now you’ve proven you’re perfectly capable by yourself.”

“I may not need to now I can protect myself and stuff, but I still _want_ to live with you, Pops,” Emizel slightly sulked he had to admit. “I want to learn all about being a great president ready for when I kill Axel and take over. I’ll make sure your legacy isn’t disgraced by that idiot, I promise.”

“Thank you.” Unable to completely ignore Fuka’s ranting still, “Considering the potential future leadership of the human world, it will be good to know the netherworld at least is in safe hands.”

“Ugh, too true.” Emizel smoothed his fingers over his scarf again, pulling it up to hide his embarrassingly happy grin.

**Author's Note:**

> In the Cam-Pain HQ, if you speak to Hugo one of the things he says is, "Of course I carry a photo of my son in my wallet. But that doesn't make me some doting father, you got that?!" which is like the 2011 equivalent of Emizel being his phone's home screen and it’s adorable. 
> 
> Val having given Hugo his scarf is mentioned by the Flora Beast in the base in episode 7, I think.
> 
> If you enjoy my work then here's my [Carrd](https://milfeirn.carrd.co/).


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